<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Staff Christmas Party by Sarie_Fairy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27072280">Staff Christmas Party</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarie_Fairy/pseuds/Sarie_Fairy'>Sarie_Fairy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fictober 2020 [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Confessions, F/M, Fluff, MSR, Staff Christmas party, Tipsy Scully, UST</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 00:48:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27072280</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarie_Fairy/pseuds/Sarie_Fairy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>FICTOBER Day 17 - Prompt: “watch me”</p><p>Scully drinks a little too much at the staff Christmas Party</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fox Mulder/Dana Scully</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fictober 2020 [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951573</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Staff Christmas Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Right around 9pm, she passed the line—or more accurately, tripped over it, from delightfully tipsy to drunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having both agreed, after a tough year—several of their cases in which one or other of them had been maimed and/or nearly killed—they went to the staff Christmas Party. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Together.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was Mulder’s idea. Scully, more hesitant. Truth be told, it was a perfect excuse for Mulder to see her outside of work. A ready-made ‘date’. Though he would never dare call it that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aside from cursory greetings to other agents, they spent most of the evening, heads close, chatting above the music. At first, about case files, then the conversation morphed to more personal topics, evolved steadily, with their growing drinks tally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few hours in and Scully returned from the ladies with a glint in her eye and two shot glasses. There was a determination about her as she placed the drinks on their table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she declared, “let’s get drunk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What,” he spluttered, “Scully, you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” she said, looking up at him, though he detected something, a change in her disposition. He wasn’t sure what, but, something felt a little off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure, did something happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Mulder,” she assured him, putting her hands behind her back, moving on. “Watch me,” she directed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she proceeded to lower her face to the table, opening her mouth and capturing the rim of the shot glass between her lips. Frozen in that position for a moment, she looked up at Mulder through her lashes. Then, in one impressive, swift movement, she stood, snapping her head back, pouring the drink into her mouth. Mulder stared, dumbstruck, awed—her long neck exposed, glass empty, the legs of the spirit dribbling down into her waiting mouth, like raindrops racing to the bottom of a windowpane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you,” she instructed, straightening up, placing the glass on the table and slowly licking her pretty, pouty lips, smirking at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mulder glanced around the room; from what he could see, no one had witnessed Scully’s astounding, and somewhat titillating, display. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed one of his wrists in his hand, behind his back and followed suit. Mortified, he came up choking on the fiery liquid invading his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scully laughed. And, oh that laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another,” she declared and disappeared to the bar before Mulder could protest. He had never seen her so tipsy before, so he put whatever concern he had down to that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One more shot—Mulder managed that one with a little more skill—another beer and three intimate tales later, they knew of one other’s first kiss, first time and first heartbreak. As much time as they spent together, their conversations very rarely got so personal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling slightly inebriated, bladder screaming, Mulder excused himself to the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scully had taken his breath away earlier that evening when he picked her up. In a long dress—it was black, and fitted and had thin straps—heels, and her hair swept up. Perhaps a little more make up than usual. But it was her disposition that got him. She linked her arm around his, smiled at him. She seemed relaxed, happy even, and his heart was a pitter-patter that he was to spend all evening in her company. Well, he hoped that he would. Hoped that she wouldn’t be swept off her feet by some charming agent, and dance the night away in the arms of another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Returning from the bathroom, he heard her before he saw her. That rarest of things, usually so difficult to capture in the wild - another Scully laugh. Her carmine locks, lack of stature, even in 3-inch heels, giving her away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, G-woman,” he said, pushing through the newly gathered crowd of equally drunk, mostly male agents, surrounding her. “Let’s get you home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Foxy!” she squealed at him, grinning as he moved in close, collecting her by her elbow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Foxy?” he mouthed under his breath, shaking his head, but not hiding the smile that had begun at the corners of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye boys,” she called into the middle of the disappointed group, giggling and slapping the closest arse on her way past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scully!” Mulder chastised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What,” she replied, bottom lip sulking out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, biting the smirk from his face, he guided her along, “come on”. He tucked her under his arm to get them outside before she could break another workplace sexual harassment rule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twisting up to look at him, she told him, “you look reaaalllyy good in a tux.” One arm slung low around his hips, the other hand poked into the lapel of his jacket, splaying her palm over his chest—Mulder felt his heart quicken under her touch. “All the women in the bathroom were talking about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he stammered, as he steered her through a sea of mirrorball-reflected agents—all dancing to a techno version of Frosty the Snowman. “What’d they say?” he queried, leaning down in order to hear her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” she began, her warm alcohol sweet breath puffing against his cheek. “That you look soooo good tonight. And that you have such a great arse,” she explained, and her hand slipped to his backside, giving it a squeeze, giggling when he flinched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That they wanted to take you hooomeee,” she listed. “Talking aboout what they would dooo to you,” she continued in a sing-song voice. “I was in a stall, they didn’t know I was there,” she said, suddenly pouting, looking sad. “I saw them just as they were leaving. All tall and thin and really, really pretty. Your type.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have a type, Scully,” he said blushing. Scully shrugged beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mulder was taken aback that a group of women would be talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> that way, but not as surprised as the next thing to come out of Scully’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, big boy,” she announced, stumbling slightly, “I’ll just pop in a cab and you get back in there, get yourself a nice piece of arse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scu—, what? No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on Mulder, I’ll be fiiiineee.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was saying fine, but he still detected that hint of the blues about her, and she didn’t meet his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay, have fun, get lucky,” she said, wiggling her brows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scully, I don’t want that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mulder, I’ve seen your ‘special’ drawer at work,” she made air quotes with the hand that wasn’t caressing his pec. “So, I know you’re not gay,” she said pulling away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scully, wait up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nearly tripped then, and he caught her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Scully,” he said kindly, scooping her up, and leading her out the door. “I brought you here, and I’m going to take you home, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeming to acquiesce, she settled under his arm once more. “You do look really good in a tux,” she said somewhat wistfully, as they made it to the lobby. She nuzzled into him as he pushed open the main door; the frigid air biting at them. He gave her his coat and hailed a cab. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mulder ensured that she made it home safely, but once inside, she almost slipped from his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, let’s get you to bed,” he said tenderly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Escorting her to the bathroom, he suggested, “why don’t you go in there, and ... do what you need to and I’ll find your pyjamas, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scully nodded, swayed a little and made it into the bathroom. She left the door ajar, and Mulder could hear the sounds of her peeing, while he opened some of her drawers, looking for sleepwear. In the bottom of her dresser, he noticed some of his clothes—jeans, shirts, underwear. He grinned, just like Scully to have a back up in case of ... well, just in case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gathering his attention, Scully stumbled in trying to undo her zipper, twirling like a dog chasing its tail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, let me,” he said, moving behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was jealous, Mulder,” she admitted in a tiny voice, “of the thought of those women getting to do to you ... what they want to do to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mulder almost stopped breathing but didn’t say anything, just concentrated hard on separated each tooth of the zipper from its counterpart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I got drunk. And now I’m drunk. And the room is spinning,” she lamented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how to respond, and when she pushed the straps off her shoulders, and her dress billowed to the floor, leaving her in just her briefs, he turned around immediately, flustered.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, you’re pyjamas are on your bed, there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few awkward moments, of Mulder hearing sounds of her dressing and fumbling, she said, “you can turn around now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spinning back to her, she looked beautiful standing there, in the dim lamplight of her room. She was holding the sides of her top together, looking up at him, eyes brimming. “I can’t do the buttons,” she confessed, her voice still alcohol addled, “will you help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mulder stepped forward into her space. Had to steel himself against her heady scent as he began, at the bottom, to fasten her buttons for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked softly, still gazing at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Concentrating on keeping his hands far enough away from her body, but not so far that he could see down her top, he was taken aback.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I do,” he said, smiling down at her, finalised the last button. “You were by far the most beautiful woman there tonight,” he told her, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, leant in and kissed her on the forehead. He swallowed, “the most beautiful women I know,” he found himself adding, and though he hadn’t thought about it before, it was true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scully tucked her chin, coyly, “you too, Mulder. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Handsomest,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she stuttered. “And you look really so very good in a tux.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mulder smiled, sighed, “let’s get you into bed,” he said, pulling back her covers. Scully climbed in, and he kissed her forehead again as she found his hand, squeezing it. Mulder stood, tucking her in. “Imma stay on the couch, in case you need me okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scully nodded, let go of his hand and snuggle under the covers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Scully,” he said and began to make his way out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she breathed, before adding, “I love you, Foxy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mulder couldn't help but grin, “I love you too,” he said, honestly, turning back to her, but her eyes were already closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mulder,” Scully said softly, rousing him, her hand to his ankle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was perched on the lounge, by his socked feet, wrapped in a blanket, hair damp, dressed; Saturday casual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scully smiled at him gently, taking him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mulder,” she began, biting her lip, “I don’t remember getting home.” She paused; “actually, there is a lot that's foggy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mulder sat himself up, swung his feet to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitating for a moment, she ventured, “Did I, um, do anything embarrassing, at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not at all,” he assured her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she sighed. “Um, why are you here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know, I dropped you off, and I was a little drunk, so crashed here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay,” she accepted. “Do you, do you want to go out, grab some breakfast?” she continued, “I’ve got a pounding headache and not much in my fridge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love to,” he said, standing. “Just give me a few minutes to shower and change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um,” she began shyly, “I actually have some clothes of yours, that must have got mixed up somewhere along the way.” She bit her lip and Mulder played dump. “Bottom drawer of my dresser.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, thanks. I’ll be five,” he said, suppressing a grin, making his way to the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you know, Mulder,” Scully ventured, compelling him to turn back to her, “you could go out for breakfast like that. You do look really good in a tux,” she smirked, “Foxy.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'll be posting something new each day in October for Fictober from this tumblr <a href="https://fictober-event.tumblr.com/post/628547358001594368/fictober-event-the-prompts-for-2020%22">prompt list</a>.</p><p>Subscribe to the series <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951573">here</a></p><p>Thank you for reading. Comments most welcome 💕</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>